


you and I are nursing a poison that never stung

by chll51



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, but Tumblr inspired me and this was in my draft and it's unfinished, so I'm gonna finish this damn it, the modern AU no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chll51/pseuds/chll51
Summary: Arthur suddenly feels envious of Merlin when he hears something like gratitude behind her voice, but also something else. Something like love and reverence. He can't decide if he wants to crush it or feel it for himself.





	1. Chapter 1

  _Love, you left me haunted_  
_Love, I’m just a shadow now_

 -

 

 

This is what he remembers.

Running down the street with no end in sight, sweats licking his forehead and fear gnawing in the pit of his stomach. A woman appears with a hand waiting for him to take, and before he knows anything else, she's cradling his head and crying. He then wakes up, drenched and unable to sleep again. Settling in the pit of his stomach is a yearning for something he cannot recall or explain.  

"So, Arthur, you were in the middle of telling me what the girl look like," the therapist says, placing his pen down. "Are you ready to continue, or do you need more time to organize your thoughts?"

Arthur inhales sharply and nods. He keeps his fingers thread and in front of his lap. "To be honest, I don’t remember her face much. I just know she has these bright red lips that caught my eyes.”   

“Did you notice anything else, like her clothing perhaps or maybe her voice sounding familiar to someone you've been acquainted with?”

"No, all I remember is thinking _how did I get here_ as I rested in a pool of my own blood. She was distraught, and murmured something that I can't make out. It sounded like she was apologizing but I can't be sure."

“And you have no idea how either one of you came to such a state?”

“No, that was why I—in my dream—tried to ask because the events seemed disconnected. I mean, I was running one minute, and the next I’m bleeding out? It didn’t make sense, but my chest was in so much pain. It felt real, like fear inducing, and heart palpitating kind of real.”

“Do you think perhaps that she is the cause?”

“I don’t know but I definitely have not felt that way ever in my life." He takes another deep breath to calm the jitters. “Then insomnia kicks in, and I end up staying awake until the break of dawn. I feel suffocating, like there’s a part of me that’s missing and where I am is not where I’m meant to be. I mean, I don’t even recall knowing her or seeing her anywhere so is this even normal, Mr.—?”  

“Merlin.”  

"Merlin? Isn't that like a wizard from one of those stories?" 

"My parents wanted to be creative."  

“Right, Merlin.” He then nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “I usually don’t believe in dreams, but this one feels important. Like, I know for a fact that I don’t know her but I  _know_  her.” Realizing that didn’t sound completely sane, he reiterates carefully. “My heart recognizes her—it’s as if—”  

“What?”  

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m going crazy.”  

“Not crazy, just a bit confused,” Merlin corrects with a small smile. “I did get a chance to look over your file, and seeing what you’ve went through recently, I’m not surprised that your stress manifested in such a strange way."  

“I'm in show businesses. Stress comes with the job."  

“Arthur, in the past year, you almost died twice doing a car stunt that should have been safe. You dislocated your shoulders anand had a small concussions. You were shot at, and luckily the bullet narrowly missed your heart. You also just lost your father. I mean, those things, adding with this dream cannot be a coincidence."  

“Yes, but I don’t think that—”  

"Plus you have the whole world watching your every move. Your face is on every magazine covers—”

"Not every magazine—”

"And you're currently in the middle of another movie project. A big blockbuster that if successful will spawn many sequels. It makes sense that your subconscious is dreaming about something inexplicable to combat with everything going on."  

Arthur sighs, conceding to Merlin’s point. Just then, his assistant pokes her head through the door. “Arthur, we have to get to the set.” He gives her a signal, then looks back at Merlin regretfully. He was hoping to have a longer session that would give him some peace of mind, but a job is a job. “Duty calls.”  

Merlin nods, then rips a slip of paper from his notebook. “Here is a prescription for a light sleeping pill. Take one before going to sleep, and try not to think about anything. I’m also going to talk to the company, and see if I can set something up with them. We’ll touch base in a week.”  

“I suppose a week wouldn’t hurt,” he quietly obliges and gets up. “Thank you for listening to me.”  

Merlin shakes his hand, and walks with him over to back door. “Contact me any time. That’s what I’m here for.”  

“And not because I’m paying you right?”  

“Well there’s that too,” Merlin laughs then pats him on the back. “Take care now.” He watches Arthur’s bodyguards escort him into his car, and waits until it’s out of sight before closing the door. “You can come out.”  

The bookcase splits open, and a woman exits. She plops herself down to the chair that a moment ago was taken by Arthur. Her face scrunches up moodily as she wipes the moisture from her face. “Centuries pass, and it only seems to get hotter. People really need to straighten out this whole environmental issues.”  

He on the other hand pays no attention as he undoes his tie. “Is it fair to assume that you heard what he’s said?”  

“Calm yourself, Merlin,” she grins, leaning back comfortably into the chair, “And yes, in case you’re wondering.”  

“Tell me why, in God’s name, is he dreaming about you?”  

She shrugs. “He’s your patient, not mine.”  

“This is not a joke.”  

“I was not joking so relax those claws.”  

He licks his lips dryly, not amused by her reply. “We can’t afford another mistake, you know that. If anything, you should be the last person—”  

“Is that jealousy in your tone?” She wrinkles her nose teasingly. “Are you mad because he remembers me, and not you?“  

"I wouldn’t dream of it,” he then chuckles, “You really shouldn’t be too proud since he remembers his death and you as the cause of it.”  

“Still sound like a lover scorned if you ask me.”  

“Me? Scorned?” He then tosses his head back and allows a string of laughter to escape like he’s never heard of a more preposterous idea. “Like I’d ever waste my emotion on something so trivial.”  

“ _Right_ , of course not.”  

Ignoring the sarcasm that’s practically dripping from her mouth, he then changes the topic. “You got what I asked for?”  

She tsks and tosses a folder his way. “You have become boring, Merlin.”  

“I blame it on immortality,” he comments, rummaging through the files, “And having you to spend it with, of course.”   

“ _Of course_ ,” she repeats, “According to the police’s records, Arthur’s many mishaps were ruled as an accident.”  

“But?”  

“I had someone else re-examined the car. It seems that the breaks were tampered with. If it’s not kidnapping, it’s tampered breaks. Though once in awhile, they do get creative and hire a hit man. You’d think after all these years, he would stop trying to kill Arthur but alas, I am wrong.”  

“Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?” asks Merlin, earning a laugh from her. “Mordred has managed to evade us in every lifetime. An impressive feat.”  

“If Arthur dies, we have to start all over again with this curse,” Morgana says, resting her head against the chair, frustrated and annoyed. “I’m tired of living, Merlin.”  

Merlin wants to reach out and tell her that he understands, but the centuries they spent together have made them allies, not friends. He doubts that she would accept his offer of comfort, so instead, he says, “We have a duty, Morgana.”  

“Protect. Protect and protect,” she says, counting. “Did I get it right?”  

"Tomorrow, you will be Arthur’s new live in assistant. Monitor him, and those he comes in contact with. Everyone is suspicious. We don’t know who is connected to Mordred, or what his plans are. Luckily, we have resources to keep Arthur close. A benefit of living an immortal life, I supposed.”  

“Wouldn’t it be strange that his new assistant knows his therapist?”  

“Not if you’re my wife, and you were placed to keep things underwrap.”

"I'm your wife? I don't remember accepting your proposal."

"I figure it was better to do it first then ask for permission after."

“You’re an ass.”  

“I’ve been called worse.”  

She smiles, amused by his blatant admittance. “Well at least when people ask how I’d fallen for you, I can just say that you tried to poison me. It’s not too far fetch, is it?”  

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”  

Laughing, she shakes her head. “Till death do us part, Merlin.”  

Before she leaves, he calls out to her with a final warning. “Remember Morg, don’t let your past feelings cloud your judgment. Keep that in mind for his safety, as well as yours.”  

“You should be careful Merlin or I might think that you’re turning soft,” she mutters, “and that you actually care more than you let on.”  

He smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”  

“As you should.”

 

 

-  _tbc_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in such an ArMor mood lately so I thought why not finish this fic that was started a long ass time ago on my Tumblr. As always, there are tons of grammatical errors because I don't know how to write anymore. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. C/C is always welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

_I'm tearing your throne down stone by stone_

_-_

 

 

Morgana knows hate the way most people knows love. It seeped in her bones, and breathed through her skin. It ached through centuries of restlessness and it was much easier to swallow than anguish and pain. Hate was a friend that tugged her in at night like a bed time story. She inhaled it until she burned everything to the ground.

Sometimes when she closes her eyes, she can remember the flashing red, the blood curling screams and the never ending war that waged across the land until there was nothing and no one left. She stitched those losses on her skin and wore it like a battle scar.

In the end though, it didn't matter if she had won. It couldn't fill the void in her, and neither could his death, to which he willingly gave her if that meant the war between them would end and she would be freed from her hate. Maybe she was too broken to be healed, a thought she has humored more than once. There are many things that she wished could have gone differently in retrospect. She supposed that is the price of immortality when all she has is time to think back on her past actions. 

“You came,” he says, turning his head in her direction and without having her calling out his name. He doesn't look older than twenty. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

Morgana clears her throat, and restrains herself from returning the gesture as her heart aches at the familiarity of that greeting. The wrinkling of the eyes and the pure, unadulterated happiness on his face remind her of someone else. “A temporary truce,” she replies, weary and guarded. "Depends on what your next words are."

The smile in his face doesn't falter as he gestures her to step closer. "You don't have to worry, Morgana. I mean no harm. After all, I'm practically human now."

"Only practically,” answers Morgana as she draws out a sharp breath. “What is it that you seek, or better yet want, Mordred?"

"Maybe I just want the comfort of somebody familiar on this lonely earth." He then crosses his arms behind his back as he turns away. "Lower your guard Morgana. We have all the time in the world to be at each other's throat tomorrow. Don't you agree?"

She considers his request, then comes closer so they stand side by side. 

"I heard Uther's dead. Cyanide poisoning of some sort."

For a man that she used to call father, she feels nothing upon hearing of his passing. Forgiveness is something she hasn't been able to give, at least not to him. "Not all of us are meant to live forever. Did you do it?"

He shrugs. "Would you strike me if I did?"

She's surprised he didn't try to lie about it. "He was a tyrant."

"He was your father."

"He's no more a father to me than Arthur is to you."

He scoffs. "Speaking of father dearest, have you spoken with Arthur?"

"Tread carefully, Mordred." Her eyes glow in warning. "Don't think that I don't know it was you who gave him those memories."

"I thought you'd appreciate him remembering you," says Mordred, humored. "Or did I hit a sour spot instead?"

Her eyes are keen on him. "We both know you did not do it out of the goodness of your heart." 

"I hear Merlin is looking for me."

"He thinks that you are the key to ending this curse."

"For the most powerful wizard of all time, he's clueless as always," he then laughs. "Merlin trusts you, either out of guilt or affections. A foolish man, but I guess it's time that he's the one in the dark for once."

Her jaw clenches. "Don't speak as if you know him."

"You mean a traitor to his kind or one that chose to protect a mad tyrant over the lives of those like him?" he then looks at her tight fists. "You can relax your fingers, Morgana. I didn't come here to fight." Then his eyes soften and he changes back to the young boy she used to care for. "To think the history between us can't even measure to the love you have for them."

"Don't."

“Don’t what? Do you not remember striking me in the chest?” His tone shifts as he holds onto his chest. “All to protect Arthur, you stroke down your own kin. After everything we have been through, you chose him.”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been.”

"Arthur's meant to die, Morgana. That was always prophesized."

She throws him on the ground with a wave of her hand. "Then stop it."

Mordred laughs, and makes no point in getting up. An arrogant smirk tugs the corner of his lips. There's so much of Arthur in him. "The only thing you know how to do is to strike people down."

She swirls her fingers and his body lifts itself off the ground. He shows no concerns and continues laughing, amused. “Maybe Merlin is right. Maybe stopping you is the way.” She tries again but nothing seems to flow from her fingers. It’s as if her magic has dissipated.

"You've forgotten that you're not the only one with powers." He then brushes the dirt from his clothes. “You can kill me ten times over, and Arthur will still die. That's the nature of the curse. I can't end it, and neither can you. It is written in the stars that he will die young. I don't have to even lift a finger to hurt him, and it would yield the same result. You want to save him? Go against fate. You remember how well that worked out the first time, or do you need a reminder? After all, the man you've spent centuries with poisoned you to prevent fate, and all he did was caused more deaths.”

She backs away as he steps forward. “What happened to you?”

“You speak as if my hands are the only ones stained with blood. None of us are innocent Morgana. I just stop pretending that I can fight against my nature."

"So this is all because you take enjoyment out of his suffering?”

"This is because  _they_ took you from me," he growls with such ferocity that she cannot see the young boy she knows anymore. “You chose to abandon us when we needed you the most, and for what? Because he professed his love, kneeled at your feet and bled for you. In case you forgot, he hunted us and showed our kind no mercy. Just because he couldn't point a sword at your throat doesn't mean he was different than Uther." His voice loses its calmness as his fingers clump together like he wants to punch a wall. “Did you forget the people he took from us?"

Morgana’s fingers dig into her palm as she fights back the tears. "No, I did not."

"You might have grown a heart, and a conscience," he says, peering down at her. "Too bad I never got mine back." 

Before she can say anything else, he disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, there will be a lot of canon divergence. Some events happened in Merlin are kept in this story and others will make you go wtf...lol also I haven't decided if Mordred would be Arthur/Morgana's child yet so I guess we'll see.
> 
> Other than that, this chapter feels incomplete somehow and also unbeta so all mistakes are mine. I will probably edit. Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

 

_And you keep coming back, coming back again_   
_Keep running round, running round, running round my head_

_-_

 

 

This is what he knows about death.

It’s painless once he lets go of the fear.

One moment he is screaming from the throbbing of his limbs, heart and mind, as if they’re rusting away; his whole body's on fire, like a thousand ants nibbling away. The next, everything stops, like something overcomes in him, and makes it calm. His chest no longer feels like it’s on fire, and his head is cleared from thoughts. It usually is always _work_ , _work_ and _work_. Stress is his companion during the day while insomnia is his friend at night. Letting the world pass by without worries is definitely liberating and addictive. Not to mention, he doesn’t see her tonight, and he can’t decide whether or not he’s disappointed.

_Wake up._

Something invisible grips his arm.

_Mr. Pendragon. Wake up._

He springs up from the bed, heaving.

“You’re finally awake.” A feminine silhouette appears in front of his view. He shifts his head toward her direction. The light exuding behind her nearly blinds him, and after a few moments, he slowly adjusts.

He sees her dark curls first, and it's déjà vu. He thinks that this must be another dream but it doesn't feel like one. He catches his breath as familiarity washes through him. The words get caught in his throat, and all he manages is, “Do I know you?” His voice cracks like a pubescent youth. She then tilts her head as her green eyes bore into his. It then occurs to him that in her eyes, he’s acting strange. He then clears his throat. "Who are you?”

“Morgana. I'm your temporary assistant for the next couple of weeks,” she says, quietly in a crisp tone and holds out a clean set of clothes. “Sam had to take an unexpected leave.”

“How come I was not told of this earlier?” He’s known Sam for the past 5 years, and she never takes a leave without giving him ample notice. Sam also rarely takes a leave. “Is she alright?”

She stares at him with a scrutinizing glance, one that sends him backing down from locking eyes with her. He squirms like a kid that has done or said something wrong. "Sam’s fine. She'll come back soon enough. I am here to assist you for the time being, per Merlin’s suggestion.” Then she looks at the time on her phone. “We need to move if you’re going to make your morning’s interview.”

 

 

 

 

The car ride is quiet and uncomfortable. He feels a barrier between them since they've stepped into this car. She has not looked or spoke to him since, not that he wants her to stare at him. It' just her eyes are on his planner, and it can't possibly be more entertaining than him. His sight lands on the ring on her finger. “You’re staring Mr. Pendragon,” she says, not bothering to look up. “Is there a reason why?”

His cheeks redden. “My apologies, my lady.”

Her eyes darken briefly, and he wonders if he made another mistake like this morning. She does that to him and it boggles his mind that he can be unnerve with just a glance. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

“You're sent by Merlin to monitor me, I'm assuming, but I thought it wouldn't be for another week or so," says Arthur. "Has something changed in the last 24 hours that makes him want to send someone to watch me?"

"He's worried wart, so he's afraid the drug's effectiveness might fade. He figures that with my experience I could better assist if an emergency comes up."

“Are you in the same field as Merlin?”

“No.” He waits for her to elaborate but she doesn’t. A couple more minutes pass, then she sighs. “I'm here to determine the stressors in your life, and if they can be eliminated.”

He keeps a steady gaze on her, still unconvinced. “I think the stress comes with the job.”

“Look, I understand that you’re weary and suspicious of me, and you are within your rights to do so, but you have no reason to be,” she says with a small smile that makes him relax a bit. “If I determine that I’m not needed, I will leave. So please, relax your shoulders, unclench that jaw and just breathe. I'm not the enemy. My job is to help.”

He doesn’t even realize that he was doing all that. “Sorry,” he says, clearing his throat. “I did not mean to come off that way.”

“Rest assured, I'm not offended,” she says, “Sometimes I forget that I'm dealing with people and not plants.”

He laughs.

 

 

 

 

Morgana waits until the cameras roll and everyone’s eyes are on Arthur before she slips outside to take Merlin’s call. "Right on time, Merlin. A bit creepy if you ask me."

“How is he doing?”

“If you’re so worried, you could have taken this job yourself."

“ _Morgana_.”

"You need to relax more. It's only been a couple of hours. No mischief and mayhem yet but the day's still long so who knows."

"Very funny."

“He’s fine.”

“Define _fine_.”

“We just met. Give it more than a day, and I'll let you know.”

“Any lead on who might want to harm him?”

"I'm going over all the files, and I've yet to find anything or anyone suspicious." She then looks back at the stage. “I got to go. If I'm gone too long, that might look bad. I'll call you later.”

She hangs up the phone before he could get another word in. She has no doubt what he would say. Probably something along the line of _be careful_ and _hurry_ like she's not aware of what' at stake. Luckily for her, no one notices her absent, and she’s right on time to see Arthur's costar making her entrance. Morgana recognizes the girl from a couple of film projects that they have done over the years.

More importantly, she recognizes her essence. Guinevere lives and breathes after all. She might have shortened her name and is no longer a lowly servant, but she still carries some semblance from previous lives. There's a closeness between them that spans beyond years of friendship. It's in the way he speaks to her, how much softer and gentler, even down to the way he holds Gwen's hands, that is hidden in front of other people, shows the depth of their relationship. An awful, and unrecognizable feeling washes over her like they've both betrayed her. It's irrational and stupid, she knows, because they don't owe her a damn thing, with or without the memories. They did not back then, and definitely not now.

"Aren’t they beautiful to look at?” someone to her right whispers.

Morgana flashes a polite smile. “Yeah, like a painting comes to life.” She tries to keep the venom from her tone. “Are they together?”

"There have been rumors but nothing substantial. Some people are just born to be together.”

For once, she cannot argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

_I was the match and you were the rock_  
_Maybe we started this fire_

 

 

 

Morgana spends the rest of the day observing Arthur as he shoots his next film. She watches him run through his lines with ease, and is always considerate of other people's time. He always thanks everyone on set as soon as a scene is finished, and is respectful of others. Therefore it’s not hard to see why people are enamored with him. He's also beautiful, witty and bright. There’s a light in him that peaks through when he speaks, and he has this earnest habit of making the person that he’s conversing with to feel as if they're the only person in the room. He can make a lie feel like the truth and people would never question it.

Maybe that’s why most don’t know much about his private life other than what he tells them. People she talked to that has worked with or are employed by him know him as courteous, kind and appreciative of his circumstance. Even the news that a wealthy billionaire, Uther Pendragon, is his father was kept underwrap. Either that or the people that worked for him are so loyal that none will say anything at all when she asked.

After Arthur finished his scenes, they rush to a late night talk show to promote his previous project, a romcom about star-crossed lovers from different time period where he starred with Guinevere. There's some irony in there if she stops to think about it. He barely gets a breath in before they both are ushered into a room, waiting for the host to announce him.

Morgana watches as he fidgets with his tie before offering her help. “Let me.”

He nods and lets go.

“Always start with the wide end of the tie on the right over the small end on the left, and under the loop,” she says, as she demonstrates slowly. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he hasn’t heard a word she said when she sees that his eyes have firmly been kept on her instead of his tie. “I didn’t realize my face has instructions on how to tie ties.”

His cheeks flush, which earns a smile from her, and it’s infectious and beautiful, and his heart starts blooming with joy from it alone. He feels alive, and It doesn’t make any sense why he feels such an affinity to her. They have only met a few hours ago. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

Her head does that little tilt that she did this morning when he asked her if he knew her. He assumes this is what her automatic response is to questions that are inappropriately weird, or she can see through him. For an actor that lies for a living, he sucks at it in front of her. “I use to do it a lot for someone else,” answers Morgana. “Anything else you would like to know?”

He'd be lying if he say no, but he can’t very well scare her off. Thank goodness their talk was interrupted before he says anything else embarrassing when it's his turn to be interviewed. "Sorry, duty calls."

Morgana nods and watches his demeanor change. He stands taller, more confident, and there's meaning in his steps as he walks onto the stage like it's home. He waves and flashes his pearly whites to the whistling and clapping from the audience. The camera captures his every movements.

Some things do not change after all, she thinks, because he's always meant for the spotlight.

 

 

 

 

When Morgana was young and found herself restless at night, she often snuck out of her room, down the corridor, up the stairs and into the tower that overlooked Camelot. She watched the city in its quietness, void of lights and its people, and found it calming. She would then close her eyes and wish for peace always. Then she grew up and understood the price for such naivety. The truth is, she may well be over a couple of centuries old, but she has never learned from her past mistakes. Maybe that's just how she's wired.

“I thought I might find you here,” he says, taking a seat next to her. They're sitting on the roof of Arthur's mansion. It's an unusual night when she allows him to be closed like this, elbow touching and walls down. The last time they shared anything, it was so long ago that it could have been his imagination. They don’t talk about it, and pretend that nothing happened. It's almost a silent understanding between them. Sometimes though, he thinks that she remembers, but he would never gather enough courage to ask her so. “You always sneak out whenever you feel troubled.”

She skims past his face, and looks away as something swells in her chest.

“Rough night?” asks Merlin gently.

“Try a few centuries.” Then she smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Are you here because you’re worried about me, or for Arthur?”

It feels like a loaded question, but he doesn't think that he can lie either way. “Which answer will you believe?”

“Start with the truth and we'll see.”

“You.” His voice doesn’t quiver. Instead it's filled with conviction, and it reminds her of the first time they spoke about magic. She remembers thinking that finally, there's someone who understood her, and saw magic as something good. Then he lied and poisoned her, and everything she thought was good and true turned out to be lies. “I know this must be hard for you.”

"Stop being caring. It doesn't suit you."

"Someone told me that I needed to  _relax_ because I was too serious."

She laughs, then asks. “Do you regret anything?"

"I can't imagine anyone that has lived as long as we do and not have any regrets."

Then they fall into a comfortable silence that grew from years together. Merlin hesitates before taking ahold of her hand, but she lets him. It's a comforting gesture on his part. When she looks down at their linked fingers, the way his lace with hers, just weaving through one another like they could fit, her heart throbs at the sight. Once, she could have been happy with just this. "I met with Mordred."

His voice is steady, as well as his gaze. "I know."

"Why didn’t you say anything?"

"I didn’t think I have a right to," answers Merlin with a shrug. An awed look hangs on her face. "You and I are rocky on our best day and I made so many mistakes when it came to you. While I cannot undo it, I can stop it from repeating. I know you would never do anything to harm Arthur. I trust that you'll tell me whenever you are ready."

"And if I never?"

“Then that’s that."

She stays quiet.

"I like to repair whatever we can of our friendship."

She untangles their joined hand, and wiggles the ring on her finger. "According to you, we’re more than friends. We've bonded in holy matrimony."

"Yeah well, feel free to change that anytime."

She stares at the ring and shrugs. "It’s fine. It’s not like I have suitors lining out the door."

"You can have any man you wish if you want to."

She tilts her head, amused. " _Any_?"

He clears his throat. "Did Mordred tell you anything?"

"He claimed that Arthur’s destined to die with or without his involvement."

"And you believe him?"

"He sounded convincing, but I don’t believe that there’s nothing we can do. Maybe you can look into one of Gaius’ books or something, and see if there's any loophole."

"Anything on Arthur's end?"

Morgana drags a heavy sigh. "No, all the people he come in contact with all checked out. None of them have any criminal records or changed their identity."

"Where is Arthur tonight anyway?” asks Merlin, noticing that the house has been noticeably quiet. "It's too early for sleep."

“He had a private matter to attend, and I was not invited,” Morgana answers then looks at the time. "He should be home any minute."

"You have everything ready?"

"I will give him his first dosage tonight and if it all goes well, those memories of his should disappear. He won't be affected by those dreams Mordred put in him anymore."

He looks as if he wants to say something else but at the last moment, he just nods. "Be careful."

 

 

 

 

Arthur comes home with Gwen, and she thinks _fate really is a bitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It ends on an awkward place because I ran out of inspiration. Oh well.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 _Go ahead and watch my heart burn_  
_With the fire that you started in me_

-

 

 

  
Arthur met Gwen when they first starred in the same cheesy horror flick to earn them a paycheck and a chance to finally have a small break into the industry. Apparently their chemistry caught the public eye even though it was only a few minutes long. Magazines started running rumors about their secret romance of late night hang outs and longing glances even when there were none. It wasn’t that he didn’t find Gwen attractive. He did. She was beautiful with her sun kissed skin, warm brown eyes and intoxicating smile. Not to mention kind. She was just so lovely inside and out, but they just started in their prospective career and a romance would put a halt to their dream. So they shared their first congratulatory drink with one another, then both went in different directions.

She went the indie where she earned recognition for her outstanding performances. He went mainstream because his agency said he had that face that people love to watch. He starred in several James Bond type of flicks that put him on the map and chose an indie project here and there to stretch his acting chops. Then they both auditioned for a romantic, drama-esque film that spawned a sequel due to a successful domestic and foreign box office run. They formed a friendship of some sort because fame can be lonely. Sure, he has his shares of relationships, but none lasted long because of scheduling conflict and time constraints. Gwen was different. She gave and demanded nothing. When his father died, she was there to offer support, and reached out daily to made sure he was alright. The rest is history.

He’s not one to boast of love but he always assumed it was this passionate, endless, insatiable force that pull people in and flip their world upside down. After all, his father was never the same after his mother's passing. When he met Gwen again, she felt inevitable, like the universe planned for them to meet at the right moment, and be together. She was the calm to his storm. That was until those horrible dreams began, and he can’t stop thinking about what they could possibly mean, or who that girl is. The woman in his dream felt like lightning on a sunny day, and he's not sure he wants to let that go, or maybe it is like Merlin said. She is something that his subconscious invented so he can cope with things in his life. Maybe he's using the woman as an excuse to ruin things with Gwen. Lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time he messes things up.

“What are you thinking about Arthur?” Gwen snuggles closer and rests her head against the crooked of his neck. She smells of jasmine and sandalwood. “You've been awfully quiet.”

He hugs her tighter. Maybe out of shame or maybe guilt, he’s not entirely sure. “I'm just thinking that you deserve better than me,” he tells her truthfully, and runs a finger through her curls. There's no reason for him to feel like something's missing when he has her, and a job that he loves. “And that I'm sorry we haven’t made our relationship public.”

She stills, then kisses his jaw. “Your well being is more important than declaring our relationship to the public. I’m not in a rush of any sort.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says with a kiss to her cheeks. “You sure you don't want to date someone else? I heard Brad Pitt is single now.”

Before she could reply, her alarm goes off. She moves from the bed and grabs her jacket. “That’s very sweet but—” They both turn toward the door and it’s Morgana, with a cup of tea on her hand.

Gwen looks surprised and glances back at him. “This is Morgana. She’s substituting for Sam,” Arthur explains. He feels uncomfortable, like he’s caught doing something wrong. Morgana gives a polite nod. She doesn’t look particularly friendly, but given how they met, and the demeanor she showed before warming up to him, this is probably a personality trait and not Morgana being rude.

Gwen shakes her hand then gives him a light peck on the lips. “Thank you for taking care of him in Sam's absent.”

“Just doing my job,” Morgana replies. Her expression is blank.

“I'll be right back,” he says, as he holds Gwen's hands and leads her out. It’s the least he could do for being such an awful boyfriend, thinking about someone else, who might or might not be Morgana.

 

 

 

  
Memories are malleable. Control it and you control the person, as Morgause often said, and Morgana knows a thing or two about faulty memories. She knows that Arthur has questions, can see it on his face, and the way his eyes always steal glances at her trying to make sense of it all. He won't be able to after tonight, and while she's confidence in her skills, she's not entirely sure that she can erase whatever it is that Mordred has planted in Arthur's mind. Once a memory is implanted, erasing it will inevitably change the person. He will either resuming life before it, or falls into a state of distress, which is something she wants to prevent. Truth to be told, she's merely guessing the spell that he used, and that in itself is a gamble.

"Sorry for the wait," Arthur says, out of breath and messy. There are marks on his neck, and she doesn't need to guess to know what happened. "I didn't think it'd take that long."

She wants to look away but she couldn't. Jealousy thrums annoyingly in her ears as anger bubbles in her veins. She breathes in and out, remembering Merlin's words of not letting her emotions getting the best of her. "It's fine," she says, and points to the cup. "It's something to help you sleep."

He gives it a sniff. "There's no scent."

"I figure it'd be easier to down if you can't smell it. You can take it along with what Merlin prescribed."

He grins. "Is this what you meant earlier when you said you worked better with plants?"

"People are fickle," she says, shrugging, but it is a half truth. People die. She won't. "Or maybe I'm just hard to connect with, so plants are a better option."

He takes a sip with his eyes focus on her hand. "You must connect alright if you're married."

She almost forgets about the ring on her finger. It's a simple rose gold band, absent of carvings and diamonds. It suits Merlin's taste. He likes to be unnoticed. "Oh right." She then plays with it. "I forgot it was even there."

He clicks his tongue, and plays with the cup in his hand, taking his gaze off her. The atmosphere becomes heavier.

"So I guess the rumors are true," she says, changing topic. "About you and Gwen."

He places the empty cup back on the table. "Yes, me and Gwen," he says with a smile, like he sees through her. "We met awhile back."

"On that horror movie—"

"Kiss of Death," he finishes with a laugh. "That movie is something special. All the ways I could have escaped but chose not to."

"My favorite part was when instead of driving off, you ran back into the house to save Gwen and ended up getting you both killed."

"I was a lover through and through."

"There's something poetic about that, I guess. Dying with the one you loved."

"Speaking of the one you love, you never did answer my question."

"Of?"

"How did you meet your husband?"

“There's nothing to tell.” Morgana contemplates giving him a generic statement, but decides that a lie laces with truth is better. "My parents died when I was young so I moved around a lot. When i found permanent residence, I met him through our mutual friend. I guess when I was going through some hard times, he was the one that was there. Honestly it was so long that I don't even know how it happened. He wasn't even on my mind at the time.”

“Oh? It was not love at first sight?”

She chuckles. “Oh god, no. I was in love with someone else, but it didn't work out.” A lump gets stuck in her throat, and she looks up, trying to muster a smile. “Things changed, you know?”

His eyes stay on her face, and they're so blue. They remind her of Camelot's sky where they spent their youth together. “Whoever he is, he's an idiot.”

She wants to laugh at the irony of it all, and wonders how many more lifetimes they'll have where she watches him fall in love then die over and over. "Everything happened for a reason. I guess somewhere along the way, we fell into each other. Like it was inevitable somehow, that he was going to be the only one."

"Inevitable," Arthur repeats, clearing his throat. "I've been feeling that a lot lately."

"About Gwen?" She knows she's walking fine line, and Merlin would disapprove of her actions. She can already see his face with all the lines and wrinkles when he frowns. Her only comfort is that Arthur will forget her soon enough, along any yearnings or questions he has of her. "You and her are inevitable?"

"I don't know," he says; if someone else has asked him ten minutes ago that question, he wouldn't even hesitate to say yes; but with Morgana, he can't. The words are there, but they've made their home in the back of his throat and refuse to be moved. "I guess I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Well, it's getting late."

He snaps out of his thoughts and run a finger through his hair. "Right, we have an early day tomorrow." He watches as she wanders to the door with his cup in her hand. When she turns back to bid him goodnight, "I'll see you tomorrow." She sounds unsure. "Sleep well."

He smiles. "You too."

 

 

 

  
Gwen turns on the lights, half knowingly that he'd be here and half hoping he'd not be. "Mordred."

 

 

 

_-tbc_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a little bit of inspiration so I tried to finish this chapter. I have an ending in mind but that's about it. We'll see how this story goes. 
> 
> The next update might be awhile. I'm not sure but thank you to BookDragon14 for commenting :)


	6. Chapter 6

 

 _my castle crumbled overnight_  
_& all my flowers grew back as thorns_

 -

 

 

 

There is a before—

the good job, the fiancé and the father who was alive. She used to do a lot of things: pray, believe and live a just life. They died when her prayers fell on deaf ears.

—an in between when she fell backward off some hospital’s roof, with her eyes closed, and shallow breaths. She just wanted the pain to stop.

— and an after.

Mordred saved her. Maybe saved isn't the right word. He found her and offered absolution to her pain. She can't change her past, but she can get it back. He gave her a chance to rebuild, to make herself into sturdier things and to become someone that lives for one singular goal: make them all pay. If she was a better person, she would have said no;  but grief was a poison that ate at her, and all she think about making them feel the pain she felt. “You're here." Gwen keeps her voice calm as she puts her jacket down on the couch. She didn't expect him to drop in this late in the night. After all, he sent a note earlier that he had some things to take care of. She never asks him what he means. It's better not to know. "Why?"

He shrugs.

“You okay?” He's quieter than usual, and has less of a _joie de vievre_ that he usually exhibits. On days like this, he looks younger than a thousand plus years old that he’s supposed to be. “You look troubled.”

He doesn't look up, just stares at the sparks coming off his fingers. “I guess I'm feeling nostalgic."

"That's never good."

"A friend reminded me of what I have lost sight of."

“I didn't realize an all powerful being like you managed to form some sort of connection to anyone. Didn't you once said that human beings are good for exactly nothing?”

He then holds a hand to his chest in jest. “Your words wound, Guinevere."

For a supposedly powerful being, he is awfully dramatic. "Only for those with a heart and last I heard, you did not have one.”

“Did anything happen with Arthur?”

She rolls her eyes at his deflection. “You mean other than you making my job harder?”

“I thought you needed a challenge,” Mordred says, grinning. “He was becoming too much of an easy target, and you were getting bored.”

"So you gave him memories of someone he used to love as a way to help me?"

"Well—"

"We both know that you did it to hurt. The intended target might not be Arthur, but I'd bet my bottom dollar that it's probably that new girl hanging around him. Morgana—" She then sees him stiffens and smiles. “Of course, it's about a woman. How typical."

"You're speaking of things that you do not understand.”

“I understand just fine,” Gwen replies. “She's like you, this Morgana? Powers and everything. Does that mean she can do what you do?”

He pauses then says quietly. “No.”

Gwen doesn’t ask for further clarification. She’s sure that he won’t offer her any even if she does. “She seems concern about Arthur from what I could see. She offered him a drink—”

“She’s trying to cure him of the nightmares.”

“Will she be able to?”

He chuckles. “It’s her specialty after all.”

There’s fondness in his tone, and whether or not he realizes it, his eyes soften a bit when he’s speaking about Morgana. It’s almost like he’s recalling something good between them. “For someone ancient, you’re incredibly human,” Gwen says, and watches him for a reaction. When she sees none, she continues. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to psychoanalyze you. We both know you're not one to share, and I'm not one to preach about making the right life choices, but you did save me so if you want to talk, we can.”

“Raincheck on that,” he says then gets up. “Your compassion is better used on Arthur.”

"Then stop meddling and let me do what I need.”

“Fine.”

“Once I’m done, you can do whatever you like.”

“And you said I’m the one without a heart “

“I learned from the best,” says Gwen with a smirk. “Though there's one thing I do not understand.”

“What?”

“You can kill him anytime, so why haven’t you?”

“I made a promise that I would not be the one to end his life,” says Mordred. “And I always keep my word."

She has no doubts of that. “Don’t want to kill him or afraid that if you do, she’ll hate you forever?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Like I said, incredibly human—” She feels a breeze then a hand on her throat. Mordred's face is inches from hers and he looks down, enraged.

"You are speaking of things you do not understand," he growls. "And what you say next might just be your last."

"Then kill me," she says, drawing in sharp breaths. She places a hand on top of his, hoping that the skin on skin contact will bring him back. She's not afraid of dying, and it would almost be poetic if he's the one to do it. "It won't be hard. All you have to do is squeeze."

He stares down at her. His blue eyes shimmers, and it reminds her of Arthur's for some reason. Then he exhales sharply and lets go. Gwen heaves heavily for fresh air, and touches the imprints he left on her neck.

When she looks back at him, he's disappeared, along with the marks on her neck. 

Maybe he does have a heart after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this late update but this chapter was incredibly hard to write because I didn't know where to take it. Anyway, thanks for sticking around :)


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